


Tracing Outlines

by MystikSpiral



Category: Marvel
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Steve goes free balling way too often, Steve's Brooklyn accent slips, Steve's a little shit, Tony is a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystikSpiral/pseuds/MystikSpiral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seconds turned into minutes of him staring, almost <em>drooling</em>, when he realized he should be tying his shoe and not staring at his friend's unfortunate (well, actually, very fortunate) situation. For god's sake it wasn’t like Tony had known Steve had a thing for show-casing which direction his dick was pointed (a nicely curved right it would seem), it had just happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tracing Outlines

**Author's Note:**

> Can you spot the boner puns? Thank you Morphia for betaing this pure smut fic.

On the extensive long list of problems Tony had so meticulously shoved in the back of his head to solve at a later date, Steve was number one; especially nowadays. Tony's having trouble looking at the situation without making boner puns, which would _really_ only be funny the first few seconds after seeing Steve’s erection ever so proudly tenting his sweatpants, its outline clearly visible.

Seconds turned into minutes of him staring, almost _drooling_ , when he realized he should be tying his shoe and not staring at his friend's unfortunate (well, actually, very fortunate) situation. For god's sake it wasn’t like Tony had known Steve had a thing for show-casing which direction his dick was pointed (a nicely curved right it would seem), it had just happened.

Really, it had started at 6 a.m when Steve finally convinced him to go on a jog with him. Tony had reluctantly agreed, though he'd figured a sweaty Steve Rogers would be worth getting his ass up at an ungodly hour. Steve wouldn't even let him reach for a cup of coffee, the heathen. Nevertheless, Tony had found himself throwing on some sweats, some ratty old t-shirt and running shoes before heading out to meet up with Steve outside.

\---

“Ready?” Steve asked.

Tony grunted.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

They'd stretched for a few minutes, It felt pretty good,  his muscles flexed and then relaxed. He also definitely got to see a peek of skin between Steve’s sweatpants and apparently size extra, extra small t shirt (Tony wasn't complaining—no one's complaining). Besides Tony feeling like his lungs were being lit with a match, hacking as if he had bronchitis, and his legs nearly shaking after a pathetic two miles, everything went better than expected (and then Steve said they were doing four next week).

All had gone well, until Tony knelt down to tie his shoes in preparation for the walk back home. At first Tony thought it was his imagination, the sun rising causing a distortion of shadows, but when Tony looked closer he’d noticed something else had risen too. Tony’s first reaction was to point it out subtly and joke about it, and just as a smile reached his face it fell.

Steve grabbed a firm hold of his erection, clothed in soft cotton, and stroked it a few times, his eyes elsewhere entirely as if he didn’t just fucking do that. Never mind that Steve’s cock was mouthwateringly big, the type of big that makes it a chore to suck, the only type of big Tony would suck. But Steve clearly was not wearing underwear, Tony could see the outline of his cock head and Tony so furiously wondered if Steve was cut or uncut (he was betting on uncut).

As Steve removed his hand from his beautifully crafted gift from the gods Tony remembered, right, shoes, tie them. Quickly he pretended as if his mouth wasn’t just hanging open two seconds ago and tied his shoes before standing up and letting out a small _‘ahem’_ to signify he was finished.

Steve had to gall to casually nod and head towards home. He had to have noticed. It wasn’t as if Tony was going to point it out, mainly because he wanted to keep staring without the awkward _'you totally have a boner'_ talk. Was it wrong and unwarranted? Maybe. Did he care? Absolutely one hundred percent fucking not.

Back at the tower, Tony decided to count that situation as something that was a thing they weren’t supposed to bring up, ever. He was familiar with those type of circumstances, that’s how he thrived as Tony Stark. Tony jerked off and fingered himself all night that night, and after that he could look Steve in the eye (and groin) without instantly getting a hard on.

But of course, Steve was selfish and inconsiderate,  ignoring Tony’s bodily functions that included popping boners when sexy super soldiers even so much as licked their lips a certain way. So he just had to not wear underwear again around Tony. This time they were both in the kitchen, alone. Tony was getting (more) coffee and Steve was getting something that was probably adequate nourishment. Small talk was held, Tony so happened to look down, and there it was in all its glory. Those gym shorts did nothing to hide how perfect Steve’s dick curved, and made his dick look so deliciously traceable (obviously he’d trace it with his tongue).

Tony swore he was _not_ drooling, even though he wiped the side of his mouth and drool so happened to be on the back of his hand. Just as the logical, _‘don’t-want-to-be-caught-staring-at-your-boner’_ part of him kicked in, Steve once again grabbed his cock. This time firmer than the sweatpants episode. Slowly Tony lifted his head, and was met with the smuggest smirk and most mischievous glint in Steve's eyes.

Steve moved over, leisurely enough to make the small gap between them feel like yards across. Tony suddenly felt a lump in his throat that he aggressively tried to swallow, and then Steve’s lips were at his ear.

“You’re not subtle, Tony,” Steve said, breathy and low.

Tony’s knees felt weak.

For a moment, Steve pressed his erection against Tony’s steadily growing one, and then backed up with ease, around the island, and out of the kitchen. Tony nearly keeled over, clutching the edge of the countertop and trying to catch his breath. Tony knew Steve could be playful, cocky even (no pun intended), but this was a side of him Tony was utterly _shocked_ to discover. Shocked as in top five times he’s been the most turned on in his life (granted, a majority of said list consisted of things Captain America related).

Suddenly, Tony needed some alone time in his bedroom. Once there, he laid back on his bed, sweatpants hiked around his ankles and hands wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. He had a set routine for jerking off, and it got him to feel exactly how he wanted to feel, but in times like these he yearned to work himself steadily to the point of an orgasm.

Tony started with softly running a finger along his perineum, and his thigh instantly twitches as tingles licked up his spine. He could see the head of his cock peeking from the foreskin already, so he rubbed some more until he was nearly rolling his hips, letting his eyes flutter closed. Low groans left his mouth and played in his throat; they were loud enough to know he was getting into it, as if it’s a motivation factor in his own pleasure. He pressed another finger where the tip of his cock and the foreskin meet, gently in circles and the pleasure was so subtle but his toes curled.

When he was done teasing himself, he started in slow but firm strokes along his shaft, twisting his wrist up slightly just to give the right amount of friction. His eyes closed, and he was imaging the Steve that shocked him, telling him to get on his knees and stroke the outside of whatever fabric of choice it was that day. His strokes sped up, and sweat broke out on his brow.

Steve would probably try and talk him out of it, asking Tony if he’s sure he could take his thick cock down his throat, and Tony wouldn’t _know_ if he could but he would damn well try. Gagging only turned him on more. Tony pressed two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking. They were nowhere near Steve’s size, but he needed to be filled somehow.

He could almost feel jagged nails scrape along his scalp softly then grip his hair, because if Tony was up for a challenge Steve would readily give him one. Tony’s torso lifted and his thighs were shaking, sweat slicking against his chest and back causing the once loose-fitting shirt to stick to his now clammy skin. His left hand was stroking fast enough to create consistent smacking sounds because of his hand tightly coiled around his cock hitting his pelvis so rapidly.

Strong hands pulling his hair, gagging around Steve’s cock, and when it’s all said and done Steve would come down his throat so that Tony'd have no choice but to swallow. The thought alone made Tony let out a choked cry, stilling his hips in the air as he came into his palm. Just in that moment, Tony pressed his fingers deeper into his mouth, nearly choking himself as drool spilled down the side of his mouth.

So much for steady.

Once he came down from his orgasmic high, Tony shakily dragged himself to the shower. He'd worked himself up way too much to just clean up with tissues and call it a night. After a quick, hot shower, Tony climbed into bed and didn’t think about what Steve might be up to next.

Unfortunately, as things would have it, Tony was scheduled for a week away in some other country discussing business matters, and it was killing him. The entire time, he debated on calling Steve or skyping him or something--anything to hear his voice so he could take the edge off. Being the over thinker Tony was, he didn’t call or skype or anything, he simply waited patiently (as patient as Tony could be).

After a week of furiously jerking off whenever he had the chance, and a private jet ride later, he was back home, and was  told to meet with Steve in one of the debriefing rooms. Tony was so close to skipping his ass down to the room it was embarrassing. Maybe there was a small skip to his step as he walked out of the elevator, but no one was watching, and he acted completely normal once he opened the door to the debriefing room.

Steve nodded his head. Tony then said something along the lines of ‘miss me’, and Steve responded with a flat ‘of course’ with a hint of playfulness behind it. That alone was enough to make Tony glad to be home. Well, that and the fact that Steve was wearing his Captain America uniform, which always got Tony going. Small talk about Tony’s trip continued. And, a stupid mission about mutant bees that Hawkeye had the misfortune of battling up against, and a few bad puns later, Steve’s hand was back onto his groin and he was stroking slowly, but this time Tony wasn't trying to be subtle about staring.

Tony’s not sure who let out a sigh first or who decided to give off bedroom eyes first, but it was an equal exchange of both. Tony didn’t touch himself. He watched as Steve grasped his erection and palmed himself. Tony dug his nails into the flesh of his hands, teeth biting into his bottom lip to keep any ridiculous sounds from leaving his mouth.

He moaned regardless, and Steve’s mouth quirked.

Steve walked over to Tony, just as unhurried as before, and slide his fingers into the hair on the nape of Tony’s neck before gripping firmly, thought it wasn't firm enough to hurt. Tony could feel the leather of Steve’s gloves brush against his skin and rub, making him sigh.

“You wanna suck my cock, Stark?” Steve’s Brooklyn accent slipped enough for Tony to hear the 'a' in his last name sound longer.

Tony immediately got on his knees. The thick canvas fabric of Steve’s pants didn’t allow as much detail to come across as gym shorts or sweatpants did, but it was still obvious Steve wasn't wearing underwear once again. He darted out his tongue, licking the outline of Steve’s cock, then sucking along the fabric just to feel the thickness tease his mouth, to confirm it’ll be so much bigger than he can handle.

Deft fingers were shaking as he pulled down Steve’s zipper, as if this was his first tango with a dick in his mouth. The thing is, it was his first time blowing _Captain America_ —and in uniform, no less. After this he could die happy, guaranteed. Once Steve’s pants were unzipped, Tony was finally met with his very hard cock. Uncut like he suspected, the foreskin pulled all the way back, and the tip dribbled a bit of precome.

Tony licked at the tip, sucking up the precome eagerly, which got a distinct exhale from Steve.  The hand in his hair gripped harder, but Tony refused to rush. He took his time, licking along the shaft, then back up to the head. He enjoyed the texture along his tongue, sucking the tip, then moving to suck on his balls. One of his hands stroked up and down simultaneously, in sync with the sucking along the tip of Steve’s cock, and Steve’s hips bucked in time with Tony’s rhythm.

Soon enough, Tony got sick of his own teasing and shoved his mouth down inch by inch, his mouth becoming fuller — his fingers couldn’t even compare. Then there was the gagging, but Steve didn’t give him time to adjust. He gripped Tony’s hair and thrusted his hips, and although Tony relaxed his throat he was still a drooling mess. Still, he found himself moaning around the thick flesh, eager, so damn eager to please Steve.

“Takin’ cock so damn well,” Steve said.

Tony moaned and sucked harder, he didn’t care if his throat was sore or that he needed to breathe at some point, he just needed Steve to come down his throat. Tony’s arms were shaking, he was so enthusiastic about Steve getting off that he neglected his own straining erection so firmly tucked into his boxers under confining slacks. A few minutes later, however, Steve gave Tony what he’s been craving ever since he’d seen the glorious outline that was Steve’s magnificent cock. Steve’s hips lifted and he was on his toes, coming down Tony’s throat and then he pulling out. Tony had to swallow all of it, and he’d never felt so used before; it was the most erotic sensation possible.

Huffing, Tony finally pulled back and tried to catch his breath, Steve did the same and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Want me to—“ Steve started but Tony interrupted.

“No, I’ll take care of myself later this was…this was exactly what I needed.” His breathing was still a bit short as he talked, he was in the process of gathering coherent thoughts again after having them obliterated just a moment ago.

Steve shot him a grin, patted the side of his face, as if chastising a child, and Tony swore it only served to turn him on because he was hard.

Tony slowly lifted himself up and spoke, “This doesn’t mean you’ll stop going commando, right?”

Steve shrugged. “As long as this isn’t the last time I’ll get to see you on your knees.”

Tony furrowed his brows in pretend confusion. “I think we can work something out.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D


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